he makes me mad 13.3

here i long to stay safe in the comfort of loving madness. the over and over sounds of skin on skin and squeezes and sighs. we settle into it a little bit too easily, all longing gazes and crossing fingers that it won’t hurt eventually. two narcissistic pessimists falling and falling and falling will it … Continue reading he makes me mad 13.3 →

head butt through 27.3

my scars are all i hold to my name i collect them, slowly, eagerly. they glitter and shine on my tired skin, as badges of honour as testaments to stoves too hot or nose bones too sharp for small fists as ‘brave girl’ stickers from the dentist. show me your teeth try not to smile … Continue reading head butt through 27.3 →

disruption in my gut 25.2

his face opened up like a flower, causing disruption in my gut. the cheap deckchairs barely holding us afloat. there’s three cigarettes left in the pack we share, with the sun setting we aim to time it so to empty the packet by dark. you chose this spot, near the cliff edge. i told you … Continue reading disruption in my gut 25.2 →

bad 27.1

walking with a limp and a fag on huffing nail polish remover hands turning purple and cold i wanna get hit by a car i wanna eat an unlit cigarette i wanna dance with the devil i wanna suck the life out of the moon fuck off your job and come run with me take … Continue reading bad 27.1 →

sunday best 9.1

my sunday best is my h&m underpants with the hole in. no bra and an oversized t shirt smeared mascara and furry tongue. my sunday best is the sun splashing onto my hairy shins through the slats of the blinds. head pounding weak knees my sunday best is being left completely alone.

19.12

I met a boy who looked just like you last night same great teeth and same side profile. his voice was softer than yours but he wasn’t as funny. he didn’t carry the same fireworks behind his eyes that you do. he makes his breathing quieter so he can hear mine led at the foot … Continue reading 19.12 →

in peace 28.11

i am too on the nose. my laugh is too loud too cutting. screachy, like a witch. i swear too much. men physically cringe when my tongue touches my top teeth, cunt. i'm a slut! you shift in your seat when i tell you how much i love sex. a lot. my hair needs brushing! … Continue reading in peace 28.11 →